Rating : Very NC-17
Note: Written (just in the nick of time!) for fosfomifira for Lost Hohoho -- she asked for "Sawyer/Shannon/Sayid. Champagne, cherries, Christmas. Smut. Off-island." And shoot! I am so sorry, but I wrote this without looking back at the prompt, so this became, "Champagne, strawberries, and New Year's Eve." But yes, there is smut, at least, so I hope its not too far off. Thank you to zelda_zee for the beta and for organizing the whole shebang!
Word count: 1636
Sawyer arrived first, just before ten. Shannon had expected Sayid when she opened the door; Sayid was always punctual to the second. But it was Sawyer who stood there on her doorstep, his mouth forming an "Ooh" of approval as he took in the flimsy material of her silver halter dress, his eyes going straight to her nipples, hardened by the cool gust of breeze accompanying his entrance. He was holding a bottle of Veuve Clicquot that she'd requested, the one that ran about $40 a bottle.
He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close enough that she could feel his cock stiffening, the heat spreading from his body to hers. She was barefoot and had to lean up, just a little, to meet his lips. He tasted like smoke; supposedly, he was quitting for the new year, but this was New Year's Eve, and being good was the last thing on either of their minds.
They were still kissing in the doorway when Sayid arrived, dressed in an elegantly cut black suit, carefully cradling a small paper bag in one hand. Shannon pulled back from Sawyer, a bit breathless. Sayid was also nearly out of breath, as if he'd been running. When he kissed her, his heart was beating faster than hers; like Sawyer, he got hard with the mere brush of her hips. She smiled, teasing his bottom lip between her teeth.
"You're late," she said, raising an eyebrow in mock anger. "Since when does Sawyer get here before you do?"
"I am not late," Sayid demurred. "And if I am..." he kissed her neck in between each word, his voice a dark, soft purr that made her shiver. “Do you have any idea," he said, shaking his head in disapproval, "how hard it is to find strawberries in December? Oh yes, you can find all manner of berries that are white and hard and not fit to eat. But..." he paused dramatically as he opened the bag and produced a small plastic container of large, perfectly ripe, red strawberries. "I did not want to arrive empty-handed."
"Sayid! You spent all night looking for these? Please tell me.... please tell me you didn't kill anyone to get them," Shannon laughed.
"Only one or two," Sayid said with a wink as, behind her, Sawyer muttered something that sounded like, "Fuckin' champagne cost more."
Shannon gave Sayid a quick kiss and took the strawberries from him. "My hero," she smiled and they both followed her to the kitchen, Sawyer rolling his eyes at Sayid, who just ignored him.
Sayid insisted on preparing the strawberries, his deft hands and serious air making even the act of washing strawberries look like an important military maneuver. He prepared to cut the tops off, but Shannon stopped him. "No, silly," she laughed. "You need those." She put one in her mouth, gripping the bit of green in her teeth. "See?" she said and leaned toward Sayid, offering the strawberry to him.
"Ahhh," he smiled, and bit into the berry so that their lips met in a kiss.
"I'm gonna open the champagne now if you kids are done being so fuckin' cute," Sawyer said. He took off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves, as if to show that popping champagne corks was far more work than rinsing a few puny berries. He pointed the bottle so that the cork flew harmlessly into the sink, but he turned quickly, spraying them both liberally with the frothy wine, his eyes lighting up in a wicked grin as they both laughed and protested but did nothing to stop him.
Very little of the champagne ended up in anyone's mouth: most of it ended up on Shannon, soaking her front completely, her dress clinging, as if glued, to her breasts and belly. A good portion of the bubbly hit Sayid's white dress shirt as well, turning it transparent so that the dark swirls of his chest hair showed through the thin fabric.
Shannon always planned these evenings out in her head, whom she would kiss first, who she wanted to fuck, where and how in what order, but any plans she'd made were lost in the swirl of sticky-sweet fumbling and groping that followed the champagne bath.
Sayid ended up on a kitchen chair, with Shannon on his lap. She took his head in her hands, pulling at the dampened curls of hair as she kissed him, a long, slow, grinding kiss designed to wring just this kind of impatient moan from him. Sawyer was at her shoulder, leaning down for a kiss of his own. Sayid took the moment to ease off his wet shirt. His hands slid under Shannon's dress, teasing her already firm nipples into aching hardness. With Sawyer's help, he peeled her dress off, lifting it over her head and tossing it onto the floor. As Sayid's hands found her breasts again, Sawyer inhaled sharply, as if the sight of Sayid's dark hands on Shannon's pale skin brought as strong a hit as nicotine. He stood about a foot away, close enough to touch, but not touching... yet.
"God," Sawyer said, his voice low and husky. "You two... like that...." He unzipped his slacks, freeing his cock, running one hand over the tip, matching the movements of Sayid's hand on Shannon's right nipple. Shannon hitched Sayid's pants down and, facing Sawyer, lowered herself onto Sayid, took him inside with a whimpered "Oh!" She tried to picture the way she looked to Sawyer, her body on display for him, with Sayid's hands on her hips, Sayid's cock slipping in and out with each thrust as she braced her feet on the floor, arching up to reveal just how wet her pussy was, that this was as much for the man who was watching as it was for the man she was fucking.
Sayid's right hand moved from her hip to between her legs; Sawyer's reaction was nearly as vocal as her own, as if he too, could feel the hard, urgent rhythm of Sayid's fingers.
"God," Sawyer said again, closing his eyes as her legs started to shake uncontrollably and then her orgasm hit, a series of waves, growing stronger and stronger, her body now nothing but a limp vehicle of intense pleasure. There was a corresponding hot, wet rush inside her as Sayid came and then another splash across her thighs and stomach. A breathless Sawyer sank to his knees before her, tongue tracing the line between her still trembling pussy and Sayid's now slackening cock. She could feel another rush coming, more intense than the last and her body told her it was too much. She shifted her hips away but Sayid held her firmly in place while Sawyer drove her fucking mad with his mouth. When he finally let her be, when he was satisfied that he'd given her as much as she could humanly take, she fell back, exhausted, against Sayid. She could have stayed like that forever, but Sayid gently eased her off his lap, complaining of the most terrible cramp in his thigh.
He hopped to his feet, furiously rubbing his leg and she knelt to help him and then, from that position, she couldn't help wrapping her mouth around his cock, which sprang back to life with remarkable speed. Sawyer's response was nearly as quick, his hardened prick pressing against her ass and then, oh, so sweet, pushing inside her. "Christ, still so fuckin' wet," he groaned in her ear, and the knowledge of how much of a turn-on it was for him to take her, still slick with Sayid's come, sent an almost painful stab of pleasure through her.
God, she loved how Sawyer fucked her, hard and desperate, like his life depended on it, how his breath grew so ragged so fast, how he sounded so fucking helpless when he came inside her. She had let Sawyer distract her from Sayid, but now, with Sawyer biting her shoulder in release, she renewed her efforts, taking Sayid's cock in deeper, digging her fingers into his thighs the way he wouldn't admit he loved.
Sayid stroked her hair, called her his good girl, oh, so very good, and then, dark lashes fluttering against his checks, he erupted in her mouth with a stuttered groan.
The three of them took a shower together, washing off all the come and sweat and champagne, half leaning against the tiles as they took turns lazily washing each other's bodies.
Shannon towel-dried their hair -- she loved Sawyer's hair so dark and swept back from his face and Sayid's beautiful, dampened curls.
She ordered them to bed and went to fetch the rest of the strawberries and what was left of the champagne.
"Sawyer!" she reprimanded him sharply when she saw him lying stretched out naked on the bed, a lit cigarette in his hand. "What did I tell you about smoking in bed? My bed?"
"Ain't the new year yet, babe," he said with that slow, easy grin of his. "Still got ..." he glanced at her bedside clock, "ten minutes for sinnin’."
Sayid, who'd wrapped a sheet around himself, was lying next to Sawyer looking half asleep, his head resting heavily on one hand. He shrugged at Shannon and accepted the proffered cigarette when Sawyer handed it to him. He took a short drag, his fingers brushing Sawyer's as he returned the cigarette.
She was going to scold him some more, but Sawyer stubbed out the offending item and sat up to kiss Shannon's shoulder as penance for his indulgence.
She took a strawberry between her teeth, leaning close for first Sawyer to bite into, and then Sayid, so that when they kissed as the clock chimed twelve, they tasted of strawberries and champagne and each other.